Advent of Eternity - Chapter 118 (Patreon)

“Impossible,” Owen stammered, his eyes going as wide as saucers as he stared at the two Boons resting on the counter. “Did you always have this many? Were ye just tugging my leg?”

“I would not have wasted time had I already had them. The manner in which they fell into my possession hardly matters,” Knell replied, tapping his finger impatiently on the counter. “I believe we had a deal. You owe me one sword and one more artifact of my choosing.”

Owen’s gaze fell to the Boons. He swallowed, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet Knell’s once again. This time, there was a flicker of unease behind them.

“Yer hunting Scions.”

“And Scions hunt others,” Knell replied. He tapped his staff on the ground. “There’s always a bigger fish.”

Owen picked one of the Boons up with a pair of thin, metal tongs and examined it. “You’ll get yer artifacts. What do you want for the second? I trust the first is the sword that the one-armed girlie is hefting.”

“Correct. As for the second – I am undecided. You believe that my companion’s bow will not take well to a Boon yet, correct?”

Owen gestured for Maya to hand him her sword. She drew it and flipped the blade around with some effort, then handed it hilt-first to the Artificer. Owen examined the blade, then set it down gently on the table.

“Aye. It got no feeling yet. I can still try, o’course. Just making no promises.”

“We can wait. I think we might be in Apton for some time,” Knell said. “I trust you have no issue with that?”

Owen grunted. He picked Maya’s sword up along with one of the Boons, then scooted the other back across the table toward Knell.

“No trouble. Take the Boon with ‘ye, though. I don’t want to deal with its owner’s friends when they come looking. I’ll have this done soon enough.”

He headed into the back of the Singing Anvil without waiting for a response. Knell scooped the Boon back up and deposited it into his bag. Maya watched Owen’s shadow nervously as rhythmic clangs started up in the forge.

“Don’t look so stressed,” Cyll said, slapping Maya on the back. “He did a lovely job with Lassie.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw your sword drink someone’s blood,” Maya said with a grimace. “That is not a lovely job.”

“Take that back,” Cyll said. “Don’t judge a woman’s diet. If she likes blood, she likes blood.”

“Don’t bother,” Stix told Maya. “Trust me. Winning arguments about things that make absolutely no sense is Cyll’s specialty. You’re better off ignoring him.”

Maya nodded, but her eyes were still firmly fixed on the dancing shadows coming from the forge. Knell watched them with some interest, but he wasn’t overly concerned about the outcome.

Cyll was no fool. If he felt his sword had been well made, then it likely was. Owen was clearly an Artificer of sufficient talent. For a moment, Knell considered speaking to the man about his eyes, but he dismissed the thought.

I do not simply need a talented Artificer for that job. I need one I can trust, and I do not trust Owen.

Just under half an hour later, Owen was finished. He emerged from the forge area of the Singing Anvil, sweat dripping from his brow. The Artificer set Maya’s sword on the counter with a grimace, then wiped his hands off on his shirt. They left small, bloody streaks in the material.

The sword looked strikingly different than it had before Owen had taken it. The red streaks from the Clawraptor’s scales were gone, replaced with what almost resembled pearl. A blueish-green tinge covered the edge of the blade, shimmering like the waves of the ocean in the firelight.

“Did it work?” Maya asked.

Owen ducked under his counter and shuffled around. He straightened back up with a roll of bandages pinched between two fingers. After carefully wrapping the cuts on his hand, he tossed the bandages back.

“Aye, it worked.” Owen chewed his lower lip, and his eyes flicked from the sword to Maya’s missing arm.

Maya extended a hand for the hilt of the blade, but Knell gently rapped her knuckles with the end of his staff. She pulled her hand back in surprise.

“What went wrong?” Knell asked.

Maya blinked, then looked at Owen in surprise.

“I thought he said it worked.”

“It works,” Owen said, the grimace still on his face. “But… ah, it’s got a will. A really strong one.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s powerful?” Stix asked. “That seems like it should be a good thing.”

Owen grunted. “Powerful, yes. Difficult to use, though. Be careful when you pick ‘er up. You might cut yourself.”

Maya shot a glance at Knell, who inclined his head.

“Pick it up, but keep it pointed away from your body. Try not to cut something else off.”

Maya rolled her eyes and reached out once more. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the sword, tightening her grip. Everyone stared at it, waiting for something to happen. Maya hesitantly lifted her hand into the air, keeping it at a full arm’s length.

“Hey, look at that,” Cyll said. “She’s got it under–”

A powerful vibration ripped down the length of the blade. Maya staggered, slamming into the counter as the sword tried to jump from her hand. She kept her fingers locked around the hilt and it swung in every direction, carving through the air with such speed that it left a faint, warbling hum in its wake.

“I can’t hold on to it!” Maya yelled.

Knell extended a hand and cast Slow. The bolt of green light struck Maya and her movements ground to a crawl. Cyll leaped forward and ripped the blade from her hands, tossing it to the ground just as the effects of Knell’s magic wore off.

“Well, shit,” Owen said after several moments of stunned silence.

“I felt like it was going to rip my arm off.” Maya rubbed her shoulder, wincing, and looked down at the sword lying innocently on the ground. “How can something so thin make so much force?”

“It’s an artifact,” Owen replied. “A very testy one.”

“So I can see. Thanks for the help, Knell, Cyll. That might have gone badly if you didn’t knock it away.”

Knell just nodded. He limped up to the sword and nudged it with the hilt of his staff. It didn’t budge.

“It can only move when held?”

Owen nodded. “If you had a more powerful Boon, or with enough time, it might get even more powerful. But, as it stands, it needs to work with a wielder to do anything.”

Cyll strode over to stand beside Knell. He went to scoop the blade off the ground, then paused and drew Lassie.

“I’m just gonna grab this one for a moment,” Cyll said. “I could never love her more than you. Just to prove that you’re the better sword. You understand.”

He leaned his sword against the wall, then picked up Maya’s. As soon as his hand was around the hilt, it started to vibrate. His eyebrows rose and Cyll grabbed it with his other hand. His arms continued to tremble, but he managed to keep it from shooting around in every direction.

“That’s one angry sword,” Cyll said, his teeth rattling. He released the blade with both hands and it clattered back to the stone floor. Shaking his head, he picked up Lassie and returned the blade to its rightful position at his back.

“I think you see the issue here,” Owen said, interlacing his fingers and leaning on the countertop, a disappointed frown on his face.

“It can’t be wielded without two hands,” Knell stated. “Not unless the wielder is incredibly strong.”

Maya stared at the sword. Her eyes flicked down to her missing arm. “Ah.”

“Does the blade need to actually be wielded to cause issues?” Knell asked. “Or will it remain dormant if sheathed?”

“Depends on the artifact.” Owen shrugged. “Some of them like sleeping. Others hate it. Especially with swords or ones with a lot of personality. I reckon you could probably get away with sheathing it, but there’s only one way to know for sure.”

Knell nodded. He hooked his staff beneath the sword and carefully lifted it into the air. Using his handkerchief, he grabbed the back of the blade between two fingers. He paused, but the sword didn’t start vibrating.

Taking that as either consent or an inability to act, Knell beckoned Maya over and carefully lifted the point of the blade until it was in line with her sheathe. They slid the sword into it, and Knell took a step back, ready to cast Slow at a moment’s notice.

Several seconds passed.

“I think we’re good,” Stix said. “I guess leaving it sheathed is fine. But what are we going to do about this? Maya can’t use it.”

“I can’t use it yet,” Maya said firmly. “I’ll find a way to get a hold of it. Knell spent a Boon on getting me an artifact weapon. I won’t let it go to waste.”

Stix bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure you’ll find some way to get it working.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be able to make a functional hand replacement?” Knell asked, nodding to Maya.

Owen shook his head. “I could make a prosthetic, sure. It would never be able to keep up with a swordmaster, though. Replacing limbs and healing is one of the hardest things to do in this world. No artifact that I could make would be able to replace such a thing in a permanent manner. It would either break or try to fight against the user’s will too much, rendering it useless.”

“I see,” Knell said. “That will be all for today, then. Don’t forget that you owe me one more artifact, once I decide on what I need. We’ll be in touch.”

Owen grunted. “Aye. So long as you got Boons and don’t have Scions kicking the door down after you, you’re welcome here. Sorry about the sword. Unfortunate thing, that.”

“We’ll deal,” Knell replied, turning and heading out of the Singing Anvil with his crew at his heels.

“You know what we should use that Boon for?” Cyll asked rhetorically. “Some armor that doesn’t break when I use it. At this point, I’m starting to think we only got it so I could lug it around in my bag.”

“Until you get to the point where you aren’t taking a mortal wound every single fight, that’s how it’s going to stay,” Knell said, making a path back toward the inn.

Furgus was still at the counter when they arrived. He greeted them, handing Knell two keys and telling him the locations of their rooms on the second floor before returning to preparing drinks for some patrons sitting along the bar.

They split into two groups, Knell and Cyll taking one of the rooms while Stix and Maya took the other. The room that the men got was about what Knell had been expecting – a plain bed, a desk, and a surprisingly clean window.

There really wasn’t anything of particular note about it, but that was perfectly fine with him. Knell sat down at the desk, dropping his bag to the ground at his feet, and pulled out the bounty sheets that Furgus had given them.

He splayed the papers across the table. They’d already gotten a look at the first two, Nyra and Thomas the Forgiving. Knell pushed them to the top of the desk and studied the other two papers.

The first was a wiry man named Halfblade. His features were largely covered by his cloak. The only defining features that separated him from any other hooded traveler were two long daggers at his side, each covered with jewels and a hand longer than a normal dagger would have been. His bounty was ten thousand, which was somehow the smallest of the group. Nothing about him caught Knell’s eye.

The other man went by the name of Swin. His poster depicted him as a large, gristly wall of fat and muscle. His nose was disturbingly flat and large, and his moustache looked more akin to long whiskers. Swin’s neck was just a single roll of fat. He wore a tattered black suit, stained with what Knell suspected was meant to be blood.

“Sixteen Seas,” Cyll said, peering over Knell’s shoulder. “Fifty thousand gold. For that fat bugger?”

“So it seems,” Knell replied, memorizing all four of the people on the papers. They’d already run into Nyra, of course, but it never hurt to be prepared for an encounter with what could be an opponent. “It would have been nice if they’d included any information about their abilities.”

“It’s like a surprise. We don’t get to find out until the time comes. It’s fun!”

Knell rolled his eyes. The sun was already starting to set outside, and there wasn’t anything he still wanted to accomplish in the city today.

“I’m going to meditate. Try not to do too much damage when you sneak out.”

“I would never,” Cyll proclaimed, pressing a hand to his heart in horror.

“Sure,” Knell replied. “The bed’s mine, since we both know you aren’t going to use it.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”